


See-Through

by Zephrit



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman: The Telltale Series (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ghosts, Angst, M/M, cute spooky ghost Bruce, drug mention, nsfw at times, some fluff too but it’s almost entirely sad, some seriously sad stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-05
Updated: 2018-10-17
Packaged: 2019-07-25 10:25:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 22,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16195646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zephrit/pseuds/Zephrit
Summary: After Bruce is shot and killed after trying to be a hero without the cowl and suit, John is left to pick up the pieces of his fractured sanity and figure out who he is without his best buddy. He's lost hope as he wallows in Arkham until he learns he was made the main beneficiary of most of the Wayne fortune along with the mansion, which isn't as cold and lonely as it first appears...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So here we are! The plot for this has been sitting in the back of my mind for a while and I finally got around to writing it. I have tons of inspiration for this piece so I hope it turns out as well as the scenarios I've been writing in my head (:
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

It was a quiet morning, all things considered. Aside from the usual complaining and threats, it was relatively peaceful in John’s part of the wing. He laid in bed, hands behind his head and his leg thrown over the other, and hummed to himself. Today was a special day. it was Tuesday; the best day ever invented! In three hours exactly, his best buddy would be there for their weekly chat. Bruce hadn’t missed a day in the year and a half he had been in Arkham, he really was the perfect friend!

Smiling at the thought, John sat up and stretched, shuffling to the edge of the bed and glancing at the framed picture on his desk. It might not look like much, but that was his absolute favorite thing in the world. A small physical reminder that he had more waiting for him outside than just painful memories. His Bruce. They had taken a better picture a few months after he had been admitted to Arkham and Bruce had been smart enough to smuggle his phone in for it. That guy really thought of everything!

The tranquil moment fluttered away almost as quickly as it came when he heard a voice behind him, pulling him out of his thoughts.

“John? It’s Dr. Leland, good morning. How are you feeling?”

“Heya, Doc. It’s lovely to see you! Beautiful day, isn’t it? It’s sunny, in Gotham of all places!” John said as he turned and moved over to look up at her, smiling. He’d never seen a morning so splendid, but then again he didn't exactly remember most of his life anyway.

Dr. Leland returned the smile ever so slightly, but there was… something else written on her face that John couldn’t quite place. Something… worried?

“Yes, John, it’s very nice out. I was wondering if you could come with me for a while, we have something to discuss,” the woman replied, pushing up her glasses and shifting her weight. John had never seen her like this, something had to be up. 

John only nodded in response as he studied her expression, the guard approaching them letting him out and leading him as they made their way to her office. He hummed quietly behind her and folded his hands behind his back, relaxing slightly when they entered and the guard took his place by the door. He was a stoic little man, but didn't look like he would take much crap from anyone. Best not to get on his bad side, John noted.

Doctor Leland's office was one of the nicer rooms in the facility, a soft light yellow that was welcoming in contrast to the bleak grey tones everywhere else. The therapist was one of his favorite people, not that there were many. She was kind enough to hold onto the gifts from Bruce for him that he wouldn’t be allowed to keep in his cell. Which was stupid if you asked either of them, who could hurt someone with a teddy bear? Well... crazy people probably.

John chuckled at the thought of someone using a bear as a weapon as he picked up the toy and took his usual seat by the window. He pulled his knees up to his chest and laid his chin on the bear’s head, looking out at the soft blue sky and tapping a song into the chair's armrest.

“John,” Leland began as she took her seat a few feet away, watching him as she folded her hands across her lap, “I need you to listen and relax for me, alright?”

John nodded absentmindedly and twisted the bear’s fur between his fingers, used to that kind of talk from her. She was always so gentle when speaking to him, but not in the way that he was used to. She wasn’t saying it in fear that a harsher tone would make him angry, but rather as a way to get her point across and keeping their talks calm and well mannered.

“John…,” she continued slowly before pausing, closely analyzing his face as the word brought his attention to her. A slight frown spread across his face and she took that as an invitation to keep going, “I… I don’t know how word this nicely, so I’m going to say it bluntly and you can ask me questions rather than I saying things you don’t want to know, alright?”

John nodded again, turning his head to face her finally as he dug his fingers into the bear’s back. His light acid green eyes locked on hers, full of confusion, “Doc, what’s going on?”

Dr. Leland cleared her throat a bit and met his gaze.

“Bruce Wayne was involved in an accident this morning and unfortunately, he passed away from his wounds an hour ago. He will not be visiting and we can’t allow you to see him in the state you’re in,”

John stared at her, his grip on the bear loosening, then laughed again and shook his head, “That’s not very nice of you, Doc. Scaring a patient like that? That’s cruel, especially for you! Did someone put you up to this? I bet it was the guy down the hall, he does NOT like my puns!”

Dr. Leland kept quiet as he continued to ramble, making a mental note of the man’s voice wavering slightly as the weight of the situation started to set in and he tightened his grip on the bear again.

“Bruce is strong, Doc. He’s built like a tank, and he’s smart too. He’d never…” John shrunk back into the chair a bit, looking down at the bear and rubbing his thumb across its cheek. It had the same color eyes as Bruce, and shared a name with him too. Even if Bruce hadn't picked it out, the green haired man knew he'd pick the same one, “He wouldn’t leave me, he promised. He’s okay, he might be a little late but he’ll walk through the door and -–,”

“John, trust me,” Leland said abruptly, “I would _never_ make this up. I just wanted to tell you here in private so we could talk about your feelings rather than overhear it later on. I know he means a lot to you, John. Tell me, what are you thinking?”

John’s eyes snapped back up to his therapist’s and he made a small, almost inhuman whimper, letting his legs slide down to the floor and hugging the bear to himself as he mumbled incoherent things. His facial expressions twisted from sadness to fear to anger then back to sorrow.

John could practically feel his heart break. The pain was horrid, spreading to the rest of his body as he started to shake. A tiny, scared part of him knew it was true, there was no reason for her to lie, but he couldn't accept it. Bruce was... the only reason he was around it. He kept him sane and safe and gave him hope for "one day after Arkham". They'd planned to do so much together, they hadn't even gone ice skating yet! John had always wanted to try that... Bruce...

Their session lasted only a few more minutes with him refusing to speak directly to her before he was taken back to his cell. He stood in the center and stared at nothing for what felt like an eternity, firmly gripping the torn arm of the bear the guard had ripped from his hands when had John shut down completely and went ominously quiet.

_‘That wasn’t a nice trick they played,’_ whispered one of the voices to him, causing him to shudder and sink to the floor. They hadn’t talked to him in so long, he was normally so fuzzy with the pills, but the sudden news seemed to snap him right out of it thanks to the fear it brought on, _‘Those liars don’t know Bruce like you do, he wouldn’t simply go get killed without you, he’s a good friend.’_

John nodded slightly in agreement and laid his head on the edge of his bed, caressing the bear’s paw to his cheek, “My Brucie is good and safe, I know it,”

\---

John felt the next few months go by painfully slow. Everything felt so... foggy with his new medicine, even the voices were bored into silence. He had became more complacent than he ever had before, not having any interest in his usual mischief or playful banter with staff or other patients. Nothing felt right anymore; not eating, not socializing. Nothing felt doable. He would go to the recreation room just to sit for hours and listen to reporters stretch his best friend's death as far as they could for higher views and ratings. Things, vile things, became of it. Was it done by a hit-man or someone after the Wayne fortune? Was "playboy billionaire" Bruce Wayne a criminal like his father and this was a drug deal gone wrong? Hell, even random women John knew weren't involved with Brucie came forward claiming their kids were his in order to get their hands on his money to no avail once things didn't check out. It was a media frenzy, even months later.

John sat on the couch in his usual spot and picked at the cushions. The Arkham upper management definitely hadn't used the monthly donations for new furniture, that's for sure. He sighed and stood up, shuffling to the TV to turn off the news. He both hated and loved when they covered Bruce. Sure, the bad press was horrible and made him sick, but seeing old footage of his buddy made him feel a little less... alone. He took in a deep breath and turned around to go sit back down when he heard his name being called.

Slightly confused, John made his way to the guard. It was the same from months before, which made him a bit uncomfortable because this sick bastard tore his bear's arm off. Still, John stayed cordial and offered him a smile, a fake one, but it softened the atmosphere a bit.

The stocky man nodded in response and said a simple "follow" before leading him out and to the familiar hallway where his therapist resided. Nothing much had changed, the same phony cheerful staff reminders and "super fun game board night!" from weeks ago was posted every few feet, as if their memories were too bad to remember after a couple steps.

When they arrived, they were met by an extra guest they weren't anticipating.

"Hello John," said Alfred as he stood and walked over, holding out his hand, "You look... calmer than I last saw you,"

John smiled, slightly more sincere than earlier, and shook the man's hand. He was a welcome sight, he really adored him when they first met, but he cut things short by flying off the handle over Waller. Ah well, bygones be bygones, "It's good to see you too, Alfred. And you too, Doc."

Dr. Leland smiled from behind her desk and motioned for them both to sit, which they did, before she began, "John, Mr. Pennyworth would like to discuss some things in Bruce's will,"

"Yes, thank you, Doctor," Alfred said and shifted to face them both, clearing his throat, "Bruce left you a few things. We had made the arrangements a few days before his death actually. He wanted to make sure you were safe in case anything ever happened to him. You did mean quite a lot to him, you know,

"He left you nearly everything, John. The mansion and his money, yours. Of course, there are conditions, but for the most part, you're all set,"

John stared at him and shifted in his seat, processing everything, then smiled a little and laughed for the first time in forever, "That sounds like something he'd do. He did like giving to the unfortunate,"

Alfred chuckled and nodded, "Yes, he did, and he still will. The conditions include that. You're required to keep the funding of his usual charities going and have the mansion open to any of his friends and family who need a place to stay, but there is quite a bit of money, so he wanted to specify that you're also to use the money to find your footing in the world. He wanted you to pursue whatever you desire; a career, hobby, anything,"

John laughed again and ran his fingers through his hair. This was all so... Bruce. So kind and considerate... what a wonderful person.

Doctor Leland sat up straighter in her chair and looked back at John, studying his expression. He hadn't looked so uplifted in a long time, it was a nice change, "John, you've been doing extremely well lately and we've come up with a deal for you to consider. We'll transfer you and have you complete your care in outpatient in the Wayne manor, if that's alright with you. Of course, we'd still meet and discuss things and your medicine would have to be taken on a strict schedule, but I think it'd be beneficial and you'd be able to do a lot more there than here. You've made incredible improvement in the last few months. Would this be okay with you?"

John looked at her, his eyebrows coming together slightly, before he took a deep breath and nodded, "I'm okay with that, it's what Bruce wanted, right? We talked about it before,"

The doctor smiled, a real one this time, "That's great, John, we'll go ahead and get the paperwork sorted and you'll be on your way tomorrow,"

The rest of the meeting felt like a blur, John's mind was racing with thoughts and emotions too quickly to ponder on. He was... going home.

\---

The car ride to the manor was quiet. John was deep in his thoughts and Alfred was making small talk about food preferences, explaining that he didn't come to the manor much other than the occasional cleaning and food was scarce at the moment. John, although he appreciated the help, didn't care about that, he was too anxious about being somewhere so dear to his friend. Bruce had talked so highly of his home and his great butler that it made him a little worried that he wasn't worthy of having such a grand place to live.

"Here we are, your new home, Mr. Doe,"

The words snapped him out of it and he looked ahead, gasping a bit as they slowed to a stop. It was so... big. Like he knew it was a mansion but this was, like, a castle! He got out and studied his new surroundings before quickly going to help Alfred as they carried in his, albeit few, belongings inside.

The second they entered, John's eyes filled with tears. Greeting them over the foyer was a banner that read "Welcome home, Joker" in his favorite shades of green and purple.

John took a slight step back and bumped into Alfred, who carefully steadied him and frowned, but didn't ask in fear it would make things worse.

"How about I take you to your room, hm? I forgot the banner was still there, I would have taken it down if I knew it would bother you," the butler said, leading the man to his wing of the manor, "He had it made for you a few weeks before the incident. He and Leland were planning this for months in advance, he was ecstatic about giving you a loving home,"

John shook his head even though he couldn't see him and cleared his throat, following close behind and taking the bag from his hands, "No! No, it's alright. It just surprised me. It's just so kind, he was so... special, Al,"

"I agree, you were the apple of his eye, John," Alfred said, softer than their earlier tone, and unlocked one of the rooms to their right. The room was simpler than the fancy decorations and belongings that were sprinkled around the estate. The butler than quietly explained how meals would take place and that dinner was at 7 sharp. With that, he left John alone to get settled in.

John felt... off. Something was odd, he just couldn't quite put his finger on it. He moved to the bed and sat down on it's edge, hanging his head and rubbing his temples. He closed his eyes and sighed, relaxing slightly, before almost jumping out of his skin when he looked back up to see...

Bruce. His Bruce, standing right there in front of him.

They seemingly had the same expression, completely bewildered and startled.

Without thinking, John stood and leaped at the man, a huge smile across his face. He wasn't expecting, however, to immediately go through Bruce and hit the floor.

"John! You can... you can see me?" The other man asked as he crouched down beside, smiling just as big, causing John to shudder and shake his head slowly.

"You're... dead and my meds are totally messing with me. Ugh I knew I was messed up but damn..." John mumbled, rubbing the shoulder that hit the table on his way down, "My brain can be so cruel, showing me my dead friend? A horrible joke, if you ask me. Not fun at all,"

"No, John, I don't think you are..." Bruce reassured him, moving to touch the green haired man's shoulder to see if something was seriously wrong, then cursing under his breath when his finger tips went through it, "I uh... forget I can't touch anything anymore, sorry for letting you fall. I would have caught you if I could,"

John stared at his hand, moving his own to touch it, and gasping as the same happened to him. He was right there! Why couldn't he feel him?

"So... you're here? God Bruce, I missed you so much!" The shock and confusion of the situation quickly turned to glee as he started to ramble about everything he'd missed back at Arkham and how board game night was lame and how Bruce was even more handsome in person than the photo of his. A few seconds later, however, he went silent and sighed.

Bruce took the silence as his chance to talk, taking a seat beside John, and started to fill him in on just about everything. The real reason for his death, how lonely it had been without even Alfred to talk to, how... wonderful it felt to have someone to speak with.

The dark haired friend glanced down at his friend and slowly wrapped his arms around him in a hug, which felt even better than ever before despite not being able to feel anything physically, "I missed you, John. Thank you for coming home,"

John, on the other hand, didn't notice until he opened his eyes again to see bloodied sleeves resting just above his chest and Bruce's head "resting" against his. He hesitantly moved his arm to return the hug, feeling a little silly as he couldn't feel what he was doing either. This caused him to laugh, the absurdity of all of this coming back, "Buddy, if this is a hallucination, I'm glad I'm crazy,"


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This features one of those scenes I've had playing in my head for ages, so writing it was quick! Updates will most likely be slower from here on out as the plot starts to get a bit more serious, just a heads up.
> 
> Enjoy ❤

“What’s it like to die?”

The question caught Bruce off guard. They had been surprisingly quiet about the technical, dark side of their reunion over the last few weeks in favor of simply enjoying each other’s company, he had went ahead and assumed the topic would be avoided for a while longer.

While thinking over the question for a few seconds, Bruce sat up a little straighter and looked over at John, who was sitting at his old work from home desk busy scribbling away at his art therapy doodles Leland had assigned him. He looked more innocent than usual, it was a great look on him compared to how he got without his medication, “Well, John, I uh… I don’t know. I wasn’t focused much on it, I was too desperate to get the woman to safety to think about it.”

John nodded at that and set down the blue marker for a red one, studying his art before outlining something with it, “Uh huh, the blond with the red purse. She was all over the news for weeks. Said you were a super duper handsome hero and stuff, as if it wasn’t obvious to everybody already,”

Bruce chuckled and leaned back, resting his hands behind his head. He doubted those were her exact words, but didn’t feel like challenging it, “Yeah, that one. I would have been fine if the guy hadn’t brought along a buddy as back up. It wasn’t personal or anything, he panicked and pulled the trigger after seeing his friend get knocked out.”

Silence fell between them as John finished up and came to sit beside him on the couch, resting his head on his hand, thinking before asking something else, “Did it hurt? A stomach wound like that must hurt, even for such a tough guy!” An eruption of giggles escaped his lips, which he immediately tried to hold back, “Oops, sorry, buddy. Not trying to make fun of that,”

Bruce smiled slightly and shook his head, dismissing the apology as it was obvious the laughter was an anxious tick, “It did hurt, but hero senses and adrenaline are one hell of a drug. I only really remember her getting away and then not being able to do the same and get out of there. That part was the scariest, it felt hopeless. Feeling myself slip away like that,”

John nodded, and his expression changed, his gaze falling to his lap. He didn’t like that answer, part of him was really hoping that Bruce didn’t remember much, and that it was peaceful. He did feel a slight sense of pride tug at his heart however. He adored how kind-hearted his friend was. This type of demise felt brutally appropriate for someone who put others before himself so often. John just wished he had been there to help.

The silence quickly became unnerving as Bruce watched the other man, wondering briefly if maybe he had gone too far with the explanation. He only wanted to help John, not make him worse. His thoughts were quickly interrupted.

“Oh! I forgot to ask! You’re still wearing the messed-up clothes. Is that, like, a ghost thing? Can you change? Or take them off?” John blurted out, tilting his head a bit to the side as a small smile spread across his lips.

Bruce could’ve sworn that if he were alive, he’d be blushing right about now, “I, uh, I can take them off. I just never really had a reason to. Not like my fashion choices were apparent,”

The way John was watching and listening so intently clued Bruce in that he wanted to see. He took a deep breath and ran his fingers through his hair, shaking his head a bit, “John, it’s not pretty. Are you sure you’re ready for this?”

John only nodded in response and inched closer, his eyes leaving Bruce’s gaze to look at his shirt instead. It was his usual, mostly casual white button up. It was perfectly ironed, definitely Alfred’s work, but it was less than pristine the further you looked down, instead showing blood, burns, and other things that tugged at John’s heart. From the looks of his closet, there were a hundred identical ones. Seemed a bit ironic that he couldn’t change into something clean when there were so many to pick from.

Bruce hesitated for a moment longer before shifting and moving his hands to unbutton the shirt, keeping a close eye on John. The last thing he wanted was to haul his progress and make him upset, but he seemed okay so far. A moment later, the shirt was open and hanging loosely off of his shoulders.

John stayed silent, taking it all in, then reached out to trace the numerous scars that littered his friend’s skin. His eyes stayed up, avoiding the mess that waited below. The smile widened a bit and he laughed again, “I beg to differ, Bruce, I’d say you’re very pretty,” He had to pause to laugh again, but this time it felt more genuine, “I’ve always had a thing for the rugged, tough type, ya know,”

Bruce couldn’t help but chuckle himself. Although he couldn’t really feel John’s fingers, just the view of being touched that way felt good. He’d never shown anyone but Alfred his scars in such plain view. He’d always tried to keep them hidden, they were an ugly reminder of how much evil there was in Gotham.

John ran his finger down a particularly long scar that led down the front of his chest before freezing when he reached the carnage. He had seen some awful things back in his Pact days, but this made him feel… awful. Having the bullet hit at such a close range tore apart Bruce’s abdomen, leaving a mess of mangled organs and intestines to fend for themselves. John swallowed and pulled his hand away, looking down again, “You didn’t deserve that, Bruce. I’m sorry,”

Bruce sighed a little and buttoned the shirt back up, shaking his head, “No, John. It’s okay, really. I’m fine now, I’d probably still be recovering had I lived. I feel perfect,”

John gave him a suspicious look, not truly believing him or the idea that things were that great, but since he wasn’t dead himself, he couldn’t exactly counter it with anything. He nodded after a while, mumbling a “fine” in response. Sure, Bruce felt okay, but he couldn’t feel much of anything else either.

The silence that was once soft and peaceful felt icy this time around. Bruce didn’t know what to say, he couldn’t tell what was going through John’s mind. After waiting a moment longer, he stood up and placed his hand on John’s shoulder, “I want to show you something, follow me,”

John blinked up at his friend, his eyebrows furrowing together in confusion, but quickly got up too and obeyed. Being spontaneous wasn’t exactly Bruce’s forfeit, but it was welcome. John liked when he showed him new things.

The two walked through the halls and made their way downstairs toward the front of the manor. The old grandfather clock struck, signaling it was late and already 11 at night. Alfred had already gone back to his own home a few miles outside of Gotham, so they were able to talk freely without worrying.

Bruce glanced back at his friend before stepping aside once they reached the front doors. He nodded to them and smiled kindly, “Go ahead, open them for me please,”

John blinked and nodded, going ahead and doing as was asked of him. He looked back at Bruce immediately who was lowering himself to the ground before laying down. He stayed within the home’s entrance, which confused John slightly as to why but didn’t bring up. Bruce laughed, nodding up at the sky, “Look, John,”

The green haired man raised an eyebrow, staring down at Bruce, before sitting beside him and looking up. A gasp escaped his lips almost immediately.  
In Gotham, the light pollution was a serious issue. The city was constantly illuminated with thousands of lights at a time; permanently bright and buzzing with activity. But all the way out here, it was quiet and dark. Perfect for the occasion.

John grinned and bounced in his spot a little, delighted by the sight above them. He had never seen so many stars! They were so clear and bright, he was sure he could have found every constellation if he knew them. He laid down and rested his hands behind his head, “This is gorgeous, Bruce! I knew stars were something but wow! Think I can use some of the money to buy one for myself, buddy?” He laughed to himself, making the air between them even less tense.

Bruce smiled and turned his attention to his friend. Seeing how happy he was felt way more special than the sight above them, it made his heart feel full. He watched him for a while longer before John caught on, raising an eyebrow at him.

“What’s up, buddy? Is there marker on my face? I’m still learning how to do the whole ‘stay in the line thing’,” He asked with a laugh, moving his arm up to rub his sleeve against his cheek.

Bruce felt himself smile wider, shaking his head a bit, “No, John. I’m just… I’m really happy you’re here with me, I’ve honestly never been happier,”

The admission lit up John’s face brighter than any star could’ve shone, his own smile appearing again. He rolled over to face Bruce, sighing happily and holding out his hand so that it was right in front of his face,  
“Well, Brucie, I’m staying for good so don’t worry, I’ll just have to make you happy forever, promise,”

Bruce could practically feel his heart melt at John’s words, moving his own hand to meet his and linking their pinkies together, “Friends for life, always,”

They laid there in silence for a few minutes, not needing to say anything else, before John looked away and rubbed the back of his neck, “Bruce, if I asked you for something, would you say yes?”

Bruce raised an eyebrow at that, there wasn’t much of anything he could give him now. John had all the money he could want at his disposal. What else was there to want? He nodded at the question and gave a reassuring smile, “Of course, John. Whatever you want is already yours,”

John looked a little happier at that, but it was swiftly switched to hesitancy. He seemed too deep in thought to explain himself. He sat up after a bit and looked down at Bruce, his eyes showing his confliction, “Just… Close your eyes, and we won’t ever have to talk about it again,”

This made Bruce worried, but he nodded and did as John asked. He didn’t need to ask for clarification because the next time he opened his eyes, John was above him, pressing his lips to where his would be. Bruce knew if he had a heartbeat, it’d be through the roof. He stayed silent, letting John have his moment, before giving in and returning the favor. It’s not like he could feel it anyway, right?

John pulled away a second later and knelt beside him, “You, uh, you can open your eyes, Bruce,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck and looking down at the ground, “I-I know you looked, I’m sorry. I just… had to know what it’d feel like, I guess, I’ve been wondering forever and it just felt like the perfect moment! Can… we let it go?”

Bruce was at a loss for words, he opened his mouth to reply but didn’t when he couldn’t find the right way to word anything. He only sat up himself.

John seemed to shrink further away the longer it was quiet, mumbling curses at himself and frowning. Why did he have to ruin things? They were going so well! Bruce was probably uncomfortable, and John wasn’t even sure if he liked guys to begin with! What if—

His thoughts were cut off as Bruce looked up and said his name sternly followed by a “come here”.

John couldn’t think straight enough to disagree, so he did, keeping his eyes down.

They sat there, Bruce studying John and John trying his best to avoid looking at him.

Bruce cleared his throat and reached out to motion hooking his finger under John’s chin and tilting it up. He finally smiled down at him and leaned in to kiss his forehead, acknowledging after that John definitely couldn’t tell by his expression, “Don’t apologize to me for something like that, there was no harm done. I didn’t mind it,”

John nodded slightly and sat up straighter, forcing himself to push the angry thoughts away, “Okay, Bruce. I trust you, let's just put it behind us though,”

Bruce pulled back to smile and stand up, resisting the urge to hold out his hand to help him up as that was pointless, “Anything for you, John. Now come in, it must be getting cold. The stars will be here for you tomorrow,”


	3. Chapter 3

The bat cave was practically the same as Bruce had left it two years ago. It was obvious Alfred had stopped coming down here, the dust was coating everything. Admittedly, Bruce hadn’t come down either, he had given up the cowl and that meant leaving the cave behind as well. He had been determined to show Alfred that he meant his promise.

Bruce quietly followed John as he made his way through the cave, his hands clasped together and held tight to his chest in glee. He watched as the other man eagerly proceeded to touch everything despite the dust, making comments here and there about how “so totally awesome, buddy!” the equipment was. Seeing him so happy made the Bruce’s heart swell. He couldn’t think of anything he’d rather watch.

John eventually made his way to the area where the batsuit and everything it could equip laid in wait. He breathed out a tiny “wow” as he ran his fingers down the suit’s torso, his fingers tracing the bat symbol. He chuckled a bit and glanced at Bruce over his shoulder, “You know, when I first saw Batman, I thought the suit was all about making you look tougher with added muscles and whatnot. But man, having seen the real you, it’s not that much of a stretch, huh? You’re really something!”

Bruce wasn’t too sure what to say, but his smile gave away how pleased that made him. Although it was faint and short lived, John took note of the reaction and smiled as well, eyeing the other man for a second longer before turning around on his heels and making a beeline to the Batcomputer, humming to himself.

Just as John was about to start searching for info on everybody he’d ever met on the device, something else glimmered in the corner of his eye. Something purple?

“Oh! Bruce, that’s my jacket! And... my jokerang!” John said, louder than needed and wincing as it echoed and scared the bats sleeping above them, “Oops, sorry,” he said with a chuckle, looking up and squinting to see them. The embarrassment lasted only a moment before he snapped back to his discovery and rushed over to wipe away the dust that coated the surface of the case.

“You, uh, seem to have quite a few trophies here, Bruce. As much as I’d love to be your trophy, Batman seems a little... obsessive about his prey. I saw the photos of me he left behind on the monitor,” John said with a smile, something flashing in his eyes that Bruce couldn’t place. It was the same thing that seemed to appear whenever Batman had been discussed, but he could never put his finger on what it was exactly.

Bruce chuckled at the comment, placing his hand against the glass that covered the purple jacket, “I actually kept the outfit as a reminder of you, not a trophy like the others. I was holding out hope that maybe someday after you got better, you could join me back in the field. We made a good team,”

“No no, Bruce, we make a good team now! You’re still here, buddy,” John corrected with a large, proud grin. Getting praised by his favorite person in the world felt great! “Our objectives are just a little different now, like when a couple gets married and things relax, you know?”

Bruce raised his eyebrow at the comparison but let it slide. In addition to compliments, John had been making comments like that for days now, but per his request to avoid the subject of the stargazing incident, he hadn’t responded to them even if they had made him happy. He wasn’t too sure what John’s endgame was anymore, slight flirting and praise had always been a part of their relationship, but he never took it further than that. This didn’t bother Bruce, it just made their dynamic harder to define and act accordingly.

Luckily, John hadn’t been looking for a response because he was busy opening the display case and eagerly trying on his old suit. It didn’t quite fit him the way it used to, he’d lost a bit of weight back in Arkham so even the belt was starting to slip off his hips, but he didn’t seem to care or notice.

“Bruce look! The Joker has returned!” John exclaimed with another laugh, posing and holding the jokerang up to cover his mouth. His eyes widened and for a split second, almost resembled the monster that had haunted Bruce’s dreams for months.

Seeing it again caused Bruce to feel uneasy. The sight brought up mixed emotions in him. Although he was glad to have made John happy with all of this, he had a slight nagging feeling that reintroducing the thing that got him in trouble could not have been the best idea. He suddenly regretted showing John the way down here at all.

“Let’s keep it away for now, alright, John?” Bruce suggested, leaning against the case and watching his friend closely with his arms crossed over his chest, “We’ll wait until you’re further along in your recovery to think about Joker again,”

This caused John to frown, his face falling, but he didn’t voice his complaints. He simply took the coat off and hung it back where he’d found it. He picked the jokerang back up and ran his fingers along the blade part, “Maybe you’re right, but I wanna hang on to this, it feels nice to have close to me again. We did come very close before, right Bruce? No hesitation!”

Bruce eyed John again, a look of concern mixed with guilt crossing his face and his eyes flickering to the thick scar lining the top of the other man’s hand. This caused more regret about the cave trip to flicker in him, but he eventually nodded and moved to put his own hand over top of his, “Alright, I'll trust you with it. Just be careful. Please. If anything happens, I can’t help anymore,”

John smiled wide and looked at their hands, patting it a little, “Don’t worry, buddy! I’ll be okay, I’ve got a guardian angel I can’t disappoint watching over me after all,”

John’s words melted away any regret Bruce felt. John genuinely was doing better, he should give him more freedom. Bruce returned the smile and turned to head towards the way back upstairs, “Come on, John. Alfred’s probably done with lunch and heroes can’t be late,”

—

Bruce had been correct, Alfred started to call for John right after they made it back. Bruce nodded and left John to go ahead and eat, they always parted ways during meals because Bruce felt odd listening in and not being able to speak or risk distracting John from his food. He had a habit of neglecting it in favor of his buddy.

To John’s surprise, it wasn’t as quiet as it usually was, as Alfred was taking to someone. He hesitated before entering, wondering who the other person was but not wanting to ruin their conversation. He pressed against the wall, pressing his ear to it and pushing his eyebrows together.

“... I understand. You’re always welcome here, of course. It’s what Bruce wanted for this place,”

“Thank you so much, Alfred. It’ll be so much easier to work tech downstairs instead of sneaking around Wayne Tower. The new CEO is nice and all, but he’s always about company productivity and I can’t get much done,”

John felt his face pale, if that was even possible. He knew that voice! Tiffany! Suddenly, he didn’t feel hungry anymore and took a step back to leave before bumping into a dresser and causing a couple books to fall off of it.

“What was that? Alfred, I think someone’s here!” Tiffany whispered, causing John to have to strain to hear, but the hushed tone was quickly replaced by Alfred’s voice.

“Oh, John come on in. We’re not discussing anything private, it’s alright,” The butler assured him, which made John feel slightly better, but not by much.

Cursing to himself, John complied and took a step into the room. The temperature felt like it dropped twenty degrees when he saw the way Tiffany was looking at him. It was a stomach churning mixture of shock and disgust, and he felt the need to run off immediately, “Um… Hi, Tiffany. It’s been a whi--,” he hesitantly offered with a small smile, holding up his hand to wave, only to be cut off.

“Don’t. I do not want to speak with you, not yet,” she said, straightening her back and turning to Alfred, “What is that maniac doing here? He’s supposed to be locked up, he tried to kill me! I still have scars!” She held up her hand to prove it.

John frowned at that, but didn’t try to object to it. Tiffany was right, he did all of those things and he had been a... bit much then, there wasn’t anything to correct.

Alfred listened and glanced at them both before speaking, “Tiffany, I understand your concerns. But the manor belongs to him, it was Bruce’s wish to give him a home and that’s what I’m doing. He’s more emotionally stable now as well, he’s nearly done with treatment. I assure you nothing will come of this, you can both be on separate floors,”

This didn’t seem to ease Tiffany’s anger, and instead knowing John owned the mansion made it worse. She angrily picked up her bags and stormed passed John, their shoulders brushing enough to make him stumble back, “I’m keeping my fucking doors locked. I’ll have my eyes on you, _Joker_ ,”

An uncomfortable silence fell once she was gone, the only noise was her steps stomping up the stairs. Alfred sighed and took a step towards John, reaching and placing his hand on his shoulder, “I’m sorry for how she acted, she’ll see how much progress you’ve made soon enough,”

John managed a small smile and nodded, putting his hand over Al’s. He felt a bit better but not by much, the venom in the way she said his hero name stung, “Thank you, Alfred. I’m grateful for the food, but I don’t think I can handle eating now. Save it for dinner, okay? Take the night off actually, we’ll be okay,”

This caused Alfred to pause, studying John’s expression to find any other motives, but relaxed when there wasn’t anything to find. He nodded and smiled, “Thank you, I appreciate that,”

John nodded and pulled away to head to his room, a frown pulling at his lips again once he was out of sight. He shut the door quietly after himself and sat down on his bed. He pulled the jokerang out of his pocket and ran his finger along its edge again, outlining the lips. He was glad no one noticed, it’d be difficult to explain it away.

“What happened?”

John jumped at the sudden voice and looked up, his shoulders relaxing at the sight of his friend. He sighed and placed the weapon on the bedside table, “Tiffany’s here and she’s not happy I am too. She thinks I’m how I used to be. I’m not, Bruce! I’m better! Really!”

Bruce’s expression softened at the desperation in the other man’s voice and he took a seat beside him. John was leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, it made him look smaller than he really was, “Yeah, I heard her. She isn’t exactly known for her quiet demeanor.”

Bruce hesitated for a moment when that didn’t make John so much as smile before moving to rest his arm across his shoulders in a side hug that John didn’t notice, “I know it’s hard to hear that, John. But I also know you better than anyone and honestly, I’ve never seen you clearer than you are now, I promise,”

This seemed to help, and John sat up to smile. He sighed as his body relaxed finally and turned to wrap his arms around Bruce. Of course, this felt awkward and clumsy, but the sight of Bruce being so close to him immediately caused his mood to lift.

John lingered there for a moment longer before pulling away and rubbing the back of his neck, looking back down at the floor, “I, uh, sorry. I’m still working on personal space stuff,”

Bruce smiled and shook his head a bit, this was nothing new to him, “I don’t mind. Really, you could do or say anything to me at this point and I’ll take it. I just like being around you, John. You’re a great friend,”  
John’s mood returned to where he had been back in the cave, his buddy always helped. He sighed happily and flopped backwards onto the bed, his arms outstretched, “I hope she learns to see that too, I don’t want to hurt anyone anymore. That was a one time thing under very specific circumstances.”

Bruce looked down at him and listened as he kept rambling about how the Pact had influenced him to act that way with how much violence he was exposed to. While he didn’t doubt that, he also knew there was something else that caused his friend to lash out and cause destruction that neither wanted to admit quite yet, “I know, John, I trust you,”

John smiled at that and reached up to touch his arm, watching as his fingertips slid right through, “I know, oh and I was wondering. The other night, you didn’t come outside. You stayed in. Was there a reason?”  
Bruce raised an eyebrow at the sudden topic change, but replied quickly anyway, “Oh, well, yeah. I guess it’s a ghost thing too, but it’d be better if I just showed you,”

\---

With that, they returned to the front of the manor. Luckily for them, Alfred had already left for the day and Tiffany was blasting music on the floor above them, so they didn't have to worry about being heard by anyone. Keeping track of that sort of thing was getting tiring, Bruce thought.

John opened the doors and shivered a bit at the cold air as it flowed in. Come to think of it, he wasn’t even sure what month it was anymore. October maybe? He should start keeping track of that stuff. He turned to Bruce and waited, his hands on his hips, “Go on, buddy. Do something spooky,”

Bruce chuckled and rolled up his sleeve, reaching out passed the door frame and keeping a close eye on John’s reaction, which was mostly confusion.

As his arm left the comfort of the manor, it faded away to the point where he might as well not have an arm at all.

“I think this is how I, you know, move on to wherever is next. Not 100% on that, but it’s my best guess,” He said with a shrug, pulling his arm back in and rolling his sleeve back down.

“I get the point, buddy, but can you please not stand so close to the edge? It’s freaking me out, what if you trip?” John said with a frown, quickly shutting the door again and moving in to get a closer look at his arm. He noticed for the first time that his knuckles were still bruised and swollen from when he punched the robber guy. He found himself happy for once that Bruce's sense of touch was gone since it looked painful. Well, as painful as something is when you've got a gaping bullet wound in your belly.

Bruce smiled and used the arm to playfully pat John’s, “I’m not going anywhere, don’t worry,”

This seemed to calm him down a bit, but he still seemed bothered, “Why didn’t you leave before?” he asked, his eyebrows coming together, “You could have been free or something, isn’t that what the goal is?”

Bruce’s smile faltered a bit and he looked down, carefully piecing together his response in his head before starting, “I… I was waiting for you. I knew you’d come eventually, I just had to be patient. I was at least hoping I'd get to see you better yourself. And here you are and you're doing exactly that, so it paid off and I don't regret it,”

John's face lit up at the last part and he smiled again, bouncing on his heels, "Well I'm glad I got to make you proud, buddy. I wouldn't being here for the world,"

With that, he turned around and made his way to the fridge to finally eat the lunch Alfred had made, humming happily to himself.

Bruce returned the smile and sighed softly, he felt the same way, "John, I'm so in love you," he whispered to himself, only half hoping the other man would notice, but the thought was interrupted when the plate fell on the floor, the poor little bow tie noodles scattering across the floor. John knelt down to collect them immediately, laughing to himself and shaking his head, "Oops, god I'm such a clutz. Sorry, Bruce, what was that?"

Bruce shook his head as he knelt beside him, smiling, "Nothing, John. I, uh, have some money in my office for take out if you want it instead of floor pasta,"

John grinned and nodded, "Yeah, I'd like that. Thanks, Brucie," he said as he stood to throw away the mess, "But I'm gonna go take a shower first," he announced afterwords as he brushed his hands off and started to head to his room, humming again.

"Oh and Bruce?" he called back, looking over his shoulder as the grin widened, "Love you too,"


	4. Chapter 4

There were two unexpected guests at this month’s Leland visit. The first was Tiffany. She wasn’t there by choice, but at the doctor’s request since she was now a part of John’s life whether she liked it or not. She didn’t mind this too much though, she was happy to have a say in what happened in the manor when it came to the guy. She felt uncomfortable around him, and it hadn’t changed much in the week she’d been there, but she could acknowledge that he was well mannered and seemed almost normal. Almost. There was still the unnerving giggling and weird outfits, but they were virtually harmless.

The second new person was Bruce. Normally, he would avoid settings where John was with people in fear that he would distract him and make him look like he was hearing voices again or worse, seeing things. The last thing he wanted was for John to be reprimanded over something that he couldn’t explain his way out of. Any supernatural talk, especially of a dead loved one, would not be a good report.

Being there with all of this in mind, Bruce felt a bit uncomfortable. He tried to stay as still as possible to avoid getting John’s attention. To help with this, he sat beside him on the couch, his arms resting on the back of it so any shifting would be out of view. The only reason he was there at all was because John was getting increasingly worried about him disappearing and refused to let him out of his sight in fear that he would fade away without warning. The newfound paranoia was beginning to worry Bruce too, making him doubt they were going about things the right way at all. But overall, his presence seemed to do John good, so things would continue.

John sat and listened as Dr. Leland recited the same boring starting off speech as he drummed his fingers against the part of the couch where Bruce’s thigh was. She, as usual, was just reminding everyone that this was an open discussion and that any concerns or ideas were welcome without judgement. He was sure he could say the whole thing in his sleep by now.

Once she finished, she sat back in her seat and smiled at John, picking up her notepad and pen, “You look good, John. I like the makeup, is it something new you’re trying out? The colors… suit you. I don’t know anybody else who would put purple eye shadow with green hair,”

John grinned and wiggled in his spot, clearly happy to have it acknowledged by somebody other than Bruce again, and nodded, “Yep! Did you know that stuff costs like $50 a piece?! It’s insane!” He went quiet after he remembered that he was a billionaire after all, they shouldn’t say stuff like that.

Tiffany, from her chair a safe distance away from John, scoffed and rolled her eyes. This caused Leland to glance at her but not say anything before continuing her conversation with him.

“I’m sure it is, John, I’m glad you’re branching out. It must be lonely cooped up here all day, do you go out at all like I suggested?”

This caused John to shrink back a little and shake his head, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. His most obvious nervous tick, it always gave him away, “Well… uh, no. I just feel safer here, I guess. People out there don’t like me, I’m not exactly a model citizen being a murderer and stuff,” The real reason was because he hated being separated from Bruce, it made him feel nervous and scared that something would happen. The thought of losing him again was… painful to say the least.

Dr. Leland nodded slightly and jotted something down on the paper in her lap, “That’s alright, it can be scary jumping back into society after an incident like you had. If going by yourself is too overwhelming, I’m sure Alfred wouldn’t mind taking you on errands,” she said, looking over at the butler who looked up from the paper in his hands and nodded encouragingly at them both.

“He’s always welcome to go with me,” Al confirmed, giving John a reassuring smile before going back to look at the crime section. It was worrying to say the least, Batman’s disappearance hadn’t done the city good, but the GCPD had capable people on their hands. They had quickly learned to work without the vigilante's help, “He’s been doing more around the house than usual as well. Last Wednesday I caught him playing the piano, it was beautiful. He says he can’t remember if he played before he lost his memory, but I’m sure he did. He’s a natural,”

John smiled and looked down, nodding to confirm it. He hadn’t really been playing however. Bruce was behind him and putting his fingers on the correct keys, and John simply did the rest of the work. Glancing to the man’s lap beside him when Leland and Alfred were distracted with their papers, he let his fingers trace a small heart into the couch cushion, showing Bruce he hadn’t forgotten he was there.

“That’s great, John, I’m really proud of everything you’re accomplishing,” Dr. Leland praised as she wrote something else down, a smile on her lips.

This made John’s heart swell with pride, but he was a bit sad he couldn’t really say why he was improving. Keeping Bruce a secret was tough, “Thanks, Doc. The meds are helping a lot, I feel more stable and... happy, I think,”

This resulted in more writing, and while the doctor was making more notes, the timer in the kitchen rang and Alfred stood up abruptly, excusing himself and exciting the room, “Oh! Excuse me everyone, it’ll only be a minute,”

Leland looked up and sat down the notepad and pen on her lap, her eyes returning to meet John’s, “I think things are good here, then, you seem like you’re almost ready to be on your own. I’d say you’re my most successful patient yet, I’m happy you’re doing so well,”

\---

After that, the group quickly disbanded. Their sessions were getting shorter and shorter as time went on, there wasn’t much to touch on anymore with John improving so quickly. Tiffany didn’t have any real complaints, so it was even faster. Taking a few of Alfred’s cookies to go, Leland said goodbye to everyone and made her leave. Tiffany did the same, but with less goodbyes and more eyeing John. Normally, this would make him upset, but with the praise he’d gotten were still making him glow.

Once they were all out of earshot, John practically jumped into Bruce’s lap and grinned, resting his arms around his neck and on the couch behind him, “A clear bill of health, buddy! I’m all better!”

Bruce smiled and rested his hands on John’s waist, taking a closer look at the makeup. It was quite jarring in comparison to his usual look, but it wasn’t unpleasant. The vibrant purples and red against his pale skin felt fitting. He was an extremely eccentric person, after all, “I heard, John, I’m proud of you too.”

John’s smile only seemed to widen at his words, leaning in and brushing his forehead against Bruce’s, laughing as the other man’s breath caught. They had slowly been getting more intimate since they had become “official” but nothing this close, “Thank you, darling,” he whispered, moving closer to close the distance between their lips. Although there wasn’t really anything to be felt, John loved how just seeing all of this sent chills down his spine. He could only imagine how it would have really felt.

“John I don’t think this is the place,” Bruce murmured, pulling away and moving one of his hands to caress the other man’s cheek and watching as he eagerly leaned into it, “Alfred could be back any second,”

John pouted and gave his best impression of puppy dog eyes, the red lipstick coating his lips making them more pronounced, but slid out of Bruce’s lap when it clearly wasn’t working. He knew he was right, and there was no way to explain why he was making out with air. Still, this wasn’t the first time he had been rejected by the man, and it was getting on his nerves, “Fine,” he mumbled, pulling his knees to his chest and resting his chin on them, “But you owe me, Batsy,”

Bruce smiled and nodded, leaning in to kiss his forehead, before pulling away quickly as Alfred entered with a cookie in hand.

“Hello again, John. I’m glad things went well with Tiffany. She seems to be getting settled in nicely. She’ll come around soon, I’m sure of it,” the older man said with a smile, offering the cookie to John, who happily accepted it, “They were Bruce’s favorite, I’m sure he would be happy to see you enjoy them so much,”

John smiled and avoided the overwhelming urge to look at his buddy, nodding and agreeing around a mouthful of cookie. He already knew that, they’d had the discussion before, but saying that seemed like it could be rude.

Alfred brushed the crumbs off of his fingers and fixed his glasses, glancing at the clock to their left, “I’ll be heading out in an hour to collect things for dinner, if you’d like you can join me,” he offered, his eyes shifting back to John’s.

Hearing this, Bruce looked up and watched John closely. He could tell by the way the cookie was beginning to break under his grip that he was getting anxious over the thought. Alfred noticed this too and quickly added that maybe it was best to go alone this time around. When John agreed, he was quick to leave them alone to go clean the kitchen in preparation.

John sighed once the man was out of sight and picked at the cookie, “I don’t want to make him sad, I just… What if something happens when I’m gone and you… you know,” he whispered, flicking crumbs off of his pajama pants, "I don't want to lose you over beef stroganoff or something,"

“I’ve told you already, I’m not leaving, John. You’re free to go as you wish,” Bruce insisted, placing his hand over his to rub his thumb over the back of his hand. The slow, methodical movement always seemed to lull John into relaxing, “I’m always going to be right here waiting for you, I promise,”

This seemed to help and John managed a smile, curling his fingers around Bruce’s, “I know, buddy, you’re a good boyfriend,”

Bruce paused at that, another smile slowly forming on his lips. They hadn't thought about labels just yet, mostly because he thought it was weird to have a relationship at all with him in the condition he was, but he liked the sound of that. He'd never had a man say those words to him, but it felt right when it came from John. Just about everything felt that way with him, it was astonishing how quickly he could make the walls he'd spent years creating fall down with just a smile.

John happily returned the look before sliding off of the couch, "C'mon, buddy. We have unfinished business," he said with a laugh as he stretched.

Once Bruce was up too, John practically skipped back to his room, locking the door behind him and briefly wondering if Bruce could walk through walls.

\---

As it turns out, he could! As he entered, he found John sitting in his bed and messing around with a pillow. He was holding it up and eyeing it, apparently judging its size against Bruce's chest.

This caused Bruce to raise an eyebrow, but before he could ask what was happening, John jumped out of bed and rushed out the door with an, "I'll be right back!"

Bruce chuckled and took the chance to get comfortable on John's bed, resting his hands behind his head. It was a lot plainer and smaller than his had been, the quality of the sheets tanked since John had decided to redecorate in his favorite colors. The room remained largely unchanged aside from the bedspread and sheets however. He still wasn't totally comfortable with spending the money he'd gotten, rarely splurging at all other than makeup.

It took a couple minutes, but John eventually returned and held up his creation. It was the pillow he'd taken with him but it was wearing one of Bruce's white button up shirts, "Tada! It's a body pillow!" he exclaimed before breaking down in a giggle fit. This was apparently the funniest thing he'd ever done because it took even longer to calm down enough to show what the point of all of it was. He placed it where Bruce's chest was and crawled in after it, cuddling up to it and tracing a heart into the spot where Bruce's was, "I, uh, figured it'd be more comfortable to be with you this way than to keep grasping at air. Makes it feel more real and stuff. I also kinda used your cologne, you have great taste by the way," he continued, his eyes on the bloody spot near Bruce's stomach. It still made him sad to see, but the unpleasantness of it was wearing off.

Bruce laughed a little and wrapped one of his arms around John, his fingers instinctively trying to curl into John's hair but to no avail, "Thank you, and I like this better too. It's sweet,"

John smiled and looked up at him, nuzzling his cheek into the shirt, before moving up and kissing Bruce again, his hand trailing up to press against his cheek, "Mhmmm I thought so," he whispered into his lips, a soft purr escaping his own lips as the familiar hum of electricity flowed through his body. At this point, he was starting to wonder if that was in his head at all or another ghost thing, but wondering that out loud seemed like it'd ruin the mood.

Bruce watched as John got more into it, shifting a bit as the man slid on top of him again and ran his finger down his jawline. He wasn't sure how to act, not out of inexperience, of course, but knowing nothing he really did would make a difference, "John... I don't know what you want me to do, you can't feel me," he said, moving his own hand down from John's hair.

The man above him pouted again and sat up, straddling the pillow slightly. He hadn't given this much thought himself and now he was questioning what he was expecting in the first place, "Uh..."

They were both quiet for a bit before Bruce got an idea. He smiled up at the man above him before reaching out to brush his fingers down John's chest, chuckling at the happy gasp that it caused, "Take your shirt off. Now," he ordered, his voice lowering into Batman's. His expression changed from the just happy to be here Bruce to the serious yet smug Batman expression that was never visible because of the cowl. Finally seeing it for the first time seemed to make John even more excited, the familiar look in his piercing green eyes returning.

"Mmmm yes, Sir," John replied with a grin, sliding the purple tank off and tossing it aside. He watched as Bruce's fingers slowly traced along the numerous scars and splotchy blemishes left from their fights and whatever else he had gotten into before his memory went blank. He squirmed as a mix of pleasure and excitement burst inside of him, the electric hum returning and making him sigh. Whatever that was, it was more than welcome.

"That's a good boy," Bruce praised with a smirk, his hand trailing up to slowly wrap around the other man's throat. He didn't even seem to need to use any pressure. The implication of it alone seemed to make John weak, a small whimper escaping his lips. His eyes were almost closed, but they stayed locked onto Bruce's as if hanging on his every movement. Bruce's flickered down to the man's crotch, chuckling and moving his hand back to run his fingers over his lips. He was a bit disappointed he couldn't smear the lipstick, it'd definitely look better that way, "You're enjoying this, hm?"

John nodded frantically, squirming again and kissing the fingers in front of his lips, "Duh! You've been holding out on me, Bruce! I don't want it to just be teasing though, as fun as this is. I want you,"

Bruce laughed and pulled his hand away, making John whine in frustration, before resting it on his pale stomach, running his thumb along the slight green happy trail that led somewhere he was eager to see. He took note that every time he did this, the physical reaction out of him seemed more genuine than just a pretend one. Interesting, "Hmmm... I want you to follow my hand. You'll have to do the touching for me,"

John's eyes lit up again and the grin returned, "Yes, Sir!" he replied before moving his hand to rest above the one hovering over his stomach. It was almost insane how this was effecting him, he wasn't even really being touched, but having such a demanding, attractive audience did the trick all the same.

Bruce smirked again and experimented with the idea by running it back up to grip his throat again, chuckling as John shifted and bit his lip at the feeling of his own hand as well as the sparks, "Tighter. I wouldn't just rest it there," This summoned another whimper, but this one was less controlled. John was getting desperate and frustrated again, but did as he was told. Bruce watched him closely, letting him stay like that, before taking his other hand and palming his crotch a bit, "That's it, just like that, baby. You're doing so good for me,"

John gasped at the sight, his hips involuntarily jerking forward, and moved his free hand to rest where Bruce's was. He shuddered at the feeling and moaned around his grip, "Can I take them off?" he whispered, pulling at the hem of his pants a little and swallowing. He frowned when Bruce made him wait a minute, forcing him trace circles into the space, before finally allowing it.

Bruce pulled his hands away and watched as John quickly removed the rest of his clothing. He smiled and sat up to kiss his shoulder, reaching down to run a finger up his thigh, "You're beautiful, John," he murmured into the other man's skin, his voice creeping back up to his usual tone. The sudden shift seemed to make John slightly disappointed, but he was happy to copy the feeling with his own hand. He kept going until he finally reached his cock, his finger slowly running up it and swirling around the tip.

Copying this almost made John cum then and there. It felt insanely good compared to just his own hand, he was almost glad Bruce couldn't touch him or else they'd have to end things there. He moaned again and found himself leaning into Bruce, craving the warmth that used to be there. John copied as Bruce's hand wrapped around him, another desperate whine slipping from his lips. His body felt like it was on fire, everything felt... amazing. He could barely think straight, all he could think about was Bruce. Bruce, Bruce, Bruce. God, did he adore him.

"Shhhh..." Bruce breathed into his ear, his hand picking up the pace as he watched John's reactions closely. He experimented a little with different speeds before settling on one that left John whining every few seconds when he would pause to ask if he wanted more. The desperate little "yes's" were adorable, but maybe a bit mean. Oh well, John seemed to like mean. After a few minutes of this, he quickened his hand again and chuckling as John's breathing grew faster, "You have no idea what I would do if I could touch you, John. I'm sure you can guess, but you've seen me fight. I'm rather... rough," he whispered into his ear, his voice dipping back into Batman territory, "You'd like that, wouldn't you? Being my toy? You're so eager to please me, you'd be perfect at it,"

John's breath caught as he gasped again, his eyes widening a bit as he came. All of this was just too much. His hips bucked forward into their hands as he buried his face into the shirt, deeply breathing in the cologne as his body slowly started to recover, "Jesus Bruce..." he mumbled, his eyes closing as the rest of him practically melted into the sheets. He was quiet for a while before adding, "Whoever you practiced that on before me is lucky as hell,"

Bruce laughed and took his place in front of John, one hand resting under the pillow and the other laying across his hip and curling around to run a finger down the small of his back. What he would have done to feel this, he thought, but decided it was better to keep to himself, "I'm glad you liked it," he whispered, kissing his hair lightly, "Anything for my boyfriend,"


	5. Chapter 5

They had spent the day apart, at John’s request. Bruce didn’t mind this, but it did make things extremely boring and he was feeling nervous that he couldn’t go and check up on him to make sure things were okay. He had been forced to pinkie promise to stay away, however, so it wasn’t anything he could just go back on.

Bruce was laying in his own bed rather than his usual spot of John’s. He wasn’t alone though, he had gotten a small stuffed polar bear from John a few days before and it was laying with him to keep him company. Not that he could move it if he wanted to, but the little guy seemed content. He raised his hand to touch the bear’s foot, which was embroidered with “Joker” in green cursive font. The color matched the bear’s eyes too. He was glad to see John finally using his money, it was another comfort zone they were trying to get out of.

From the looks of it, today was another test. John’s separation anxiety was getting out of hand lately and they were both quite scared by it. This put Bruce in a tough position, stuck between putting John’s feelings or his mental health first.

But what confused Bruce was that they would talk about testing things out before just jumping into them. This worried him the most.

He sat up after a while and looked out the window, it was getting dark and the lights of the city were starting to really shine. Usually he kept his curtains shut, but John insisted he be able to see the outdoors if he couldn’t actually go out anymore. He was glad he did let him, it was nice to not lose that little piece of his home forever.

Bruce glanced at the clock hanging on the wall. 10:17pm. It really was late, he would never get used to how quickly time went by now that he stopped feeling. No sense of time passing, no fatigue to hint that the day was over. It was incredibly disorienting if he didn't keep a close eye on the time. He practically used John as his timepiece, sticking to his schedule made things easier.

Eventually, after what seemed to be a few minutes passing, Bruce caved and got up. He couldn’t handle the suspense anymore, he needed to know what was happening. As much as he trusted John’s intuition, he did sometimes make questionable choices and act erratically. It was one of the things Bruce loved about him, but it didn’t make things any easier either.

It took even longer to find John at all. He was nowhere to be found in the manor, and he double checked everywhere, even Tiffany’s room, before thinking to look below. Why he would be in the batcave at all was a mystery to Bruce, but it came to be true when he ventured down.

He wasn’t prepared for what he would find.

The place was a total disaster. The glass displays had been shattered and their content thrown across the floor. The batsuit was coated in the paint stored with John’s outfit, red and black smeared down the chest plate and there were small scratches and puncture marks across the arms and stomach area. The rest of the weapons and tools he had once used to take out enemies were thrown across the table haphazardly, as if the person who had done it were looking for something.

Bruce’s face stayed stone still despite his initial horror at what awaited him. The batcave had practically been a second home to it and seeing it in this state almost made him… angry. But knowing who had done it forced him to focus on finding John instead. It was nearly all cosmetic anyway, and it wasn’t like anyone went down there anymore.

“John?” Bruce called out once he had taken the whole scene in, and his voice was followed by quiet laughing. It wasn’t like John’s though, it was too… cold and drawn out to be him. He followed the sound until he reached the end of the walkway. The sight nearly broke his heart. John was sitting in the chair that usually sat by the computer, his missing cape wrapped around him as some sort of sick hug.

“I uh…. Hey, buddy,” John said with another laugh, pulling the cape tighter around itself, “Sorry about the mess I… had a bit of an existential crisis today,” he explained as he stood up, brushing the dirt off of himself and keeping his eyes on the ground, “But! I did come up with a solution!”

“What happened, John?” Bruce asked as he watched him closely, taking a step closer and reaching out to touch the man’s cheek, which was cut and the blood smeared across his cheekbone. John leaned into the touch, sighing a bit and smiling.

“That feels nice, Brucie. I missed you,” he whispered, taking a step towards Bruce but quickly losing his balance and tripping over the cape that hung in his arms, “Oops, this thing is pretty heavy, huh? How’d you even… lift it? God you’re strong, Bruce,”

Bruce’s face hardened immediately and he took a step back, looking around John to see a few bottles surrounding the bottom of the chair, “You’re drunk,” he said, crossing his arms across his chest and returning his gaze to John’s face, “What happened?”

John fell silent, apparently struggling to piece together exactly what brought him to this point, before answering a moment later and leaning back against the now broken display case, “I just realized some stuff, that’s all. You weren’t supposed to come find me though, I wasn’t ready to face you before…” His voice trailed off as he hugged the cape to himself, his eyes falling again.

Bruce sighed and knelt down in front of him so that no amount of floor glaring would avoid him, “John please, you’re scaring me,” he begged as he placed his hand over John’s, trying his best to convey that through his eyes. If it was working, he wasn’t sure as John seemed too out of it to notice much anyway.

“I just… you’re dead, Bruce. You’re dead and I’m alive and I’m in love with you but I can’t even touch you anymore,” John whispered, reaching out to touch his cheek to prove the point. Like expected, it simply went through, “It’s not fair, you’re a good person. It should’ve been me, I’m the murderer. You were gonna do such good things,”

Bruce nodded slightly, this much made sense, but he was still lost on some things, “What about trashing the place, what’s that about?” he asked slowly, having to move to keep John’s eyes on him.

John blinked and looked up, seemingly taking it in for the first own, and frowned, “I got a little mad, I think. Everything just hit me at once,” he explained, his fingers aimlessly trying to grab onto Bruce, probably without his noticing, “I don’t have anywhere to go after this, I don’t have family, I don’t even have a career to fall back on. You’re the one with all that, you deserved more,”

Bruce had began to try to talk John down from that, offering schooling or maybe a place somewhere nobody knew him, but nothing seemed to get through.

John only smiled and looked back at him, his free hand reaching down into his back pocket and pulling out the jokerrang. It shone slightly in the lighting as he raised it, his eyes seemingly studying the edges, before very lightly brushing the tip against his throat, “I wanna be with you again, Bruce, but I can’t do that living,”

Bruce tensed up immediately, instinctively reaching out to grab the weapon from him, before cursing when his hand slipped through it. This caused John to laugh and lean in to kiss his forehead as he ignored him, “John, put it down. Now… Please,”

“Shhhh… I wasn’t gonna do it with you here, but I just kept stalling, you know? It always feels like a great idea till you’re staring down the gun,” he said with a laugh, digging the blade in a little deeper to Bruce’s dismay. The look of desperation in the other man's beautiful blue eyes only caused him to be more amused, “The reason you can’t stop me is exactly why I’m doing this. I want you to stop me, Bruce. I want to feel your hands on me again. Hell, I don’t even care if it's you beating me, I just miss your touch… The way you had to pretend to touch me really hurt, Bruce, we both wanted it so bad. Just let this happen, okay?”

Bruce was frozen, he had no idea what to do. He was so used to using blunt force for things that now without that, he felt powerless. Especially when it came to someone he loved so much, “John… listen to me, I’m sorry things turned out this way. And I’m sorry I let things go on like this, it never did you any real good, did it?” he began, sighing and stopping to rub his temples. He was stressed beyond belief.

“I can promise you though, that if you so much as cut your finger, I’m leaving for good. Our relationship isn’t healthy anymore. Neither of us can keep going, not if this is the outcome. I want you to be happy but I'm not the answer, I have to go,” he continued, pausing after to judge how John would react.

A look of hesitation crossed John’s face, lowering the blade a little, before putting it right back as his eyes darkened, “Bruce, our relationship has _never_ been healthy! It’s always been me desperate to make you like me, or putting my life on the line to help you!" his voice faltered slightly and it hushed to a barely audible whisper, tears filling his eyes, "Just… let me do this. Come hold me, please. It’ll be okay, I’m not scared. I’m doing this for you, for us. We can finally be together in the way we’re supposed to,”

Bruce stared at him, and without a word, got up and started to walk back to the entrance. He did his best to make his steps even and calm, to show that he was serious about this and that he really would leave. The second he got back to the manor’s floor, though, he ran the entire way to Tiffany’s room.

He assumed it was safe to enter and barged in. She sat on her bed, doodling something tech related that looked like a second version of the drone, while she sang quietly to herself. Taking a deep breath, he knelt down beside it and looked her right in the eyes, “See me, come on please. Just, look at me, Tiffany. Please,”

Bruce continued despite his increasing dread and fear of what was happening below them, his voice slowly getting more and more desperate, before sighing in relief as she nodded at her sketch and smiled, “Time to go get supplies for you,” She hopped up and headed out of her room to start down the path Bruce had just hurried down.

She was going almost painfully slow, preoccupied with listing the items she’d need for her new creation outloud, but eventually they had made it downstairs.

“What the fuck happened?” Tiffany blurted out, pushing aside the trashed weapons on the table to set down her sketchbook. The mess had completely escaped Bruce’s thoughts.

Bruce left her side to rush back to John’s. He sighed in relief when he saw that his throat was as perfectly pale as always, the bat cape wrapped around him once again. He sat down beside him and immediately did his best hug him, whispering small “thank you”s and ‘I’m so sorry”s.

John, however, just smiled and nodded, leaning a bit into the hug, “Yeah… me too, buddy,”

Bruce frowned at that and pulled away. It was then that Tiffany noticed them, or rather, John’s voice. She whispered something inaudible as she made her way over before pulling the cape off of him and gasping in horror.

The jokerrang was buried deep in John’s abdomen, blood seeping through his shirt and forming a puddle beneath him. He frowned and reached for it weakly, “Give it back, it still smells like him,” he said hoarsely then laughed, “Doesn’t it, Brucie? You were the only one who ever touched it, right? I can tell, you took very… good care… of it...”

Tiffany found herself frozen, unable to comprehend what she was looking at. She glanced at the spot that John was looking at and shook her head and it clicked, “I fucking knew it, you psycho. You’re just as crazy as before,” She stormed off and pulled out her phone to call for help, despite her better judgement. She couldn’t let him just die, even if he did the same to her. Unlike him, she had a conscientious. She stayed a safe distance away to clean up everything and hide any batman evidence then didn’t come back when John fell unconscious, heading upstairs to wait for the ambulance. This was _such _an annoying way to end the night.__

__Bruce, on the other hand, wasn’t nearly as collected as her. He stayed right by John’s side, his thoughts racing and his hands practically shaking in fear. Why did he leave? He should have stayed, he could’ve talked him out of it eventually! John always listened to him, even if it took a while, he trusted him..._ _

__Bruce found slight comfort in the fact that his breathing was still steady, although shallow, enough to support himself for a bit longer. The blade itself was still in place, so the bleeding wasn't nearly as bad as it could have been. He wrapped his arms around the man gently, burying his face into his hair._ _

__The next few minutes felt unreal. The paramedics came, assessed the situation, and quickly tore John from Bruce’s arms. He tried his best to follow, but his body felt… slow. Sluggish, tired. He’d never felt this way since the first incident. He trailed after them for as long as he could, being forced to stop at the doorway. He reached out into the cold night’s air and shivered as a tear rolled down his cheek. It was the first thing he’d truly felt in a very long time._ _

__“I'm sorry, John,”_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't write happy things lol, had to go ruin it


	6. Chapter 6

In truth, John didn’t remember much of what happened. He woke up with the worst headache he’d ever had, as far as he knew, and things didn’t get much better from there. The orderlies weren’t kind to him, apparently a few were family members of the agents he’d hurt before and they weren’t holding back in letting him know.

It didn’t get better when Dr. Leland and Alfred showed up either. In fact, their expressions made him prefer the nurses’ glares.

He listened as they discussed him right outside his door, it was hard not to listen in. He slowly turned to his side and winced, pulling the extra pillow he’d begged for to him for a hug. He had taken a peek down at his stomach earlier and it reminded him a lot of what happened to Bruce, but on a smaller scale.

_Bruce._

The thought of him made John’s stomach tighten. He sighed and pressed his face into the pillow, wishing for nothing more than to be back home with him and to apologize. Hell, even to just let him know he was okay. He knew Alfred and Tiffany weren’t going to be talking about him, Tiffany took every chance she could to avoid thinking about him, so there wasn’t a way for Bruce to overhear anything about his recovery.

His eyes snapped back open when Bruce’s threats suddenly came back to him. Bruce was always serious, joking was rare for him. Not even a finger cut? Then he’d definitely left by now based on the damage he’d done to himself… 

Feeling even more defeated and anxious, John slowly sat up when the two entered the room, staring down at his pillow and picking at the seams. He refused to look either of them in the eye, not ready to face more of the mess he brought upon them.

“Hello, John,” Dr. Leland said in her soft, therapy tone. She took a seat on the edge of the bed and rested her hand on John’s, “We were beginning to get worried, especially when you wouldn’t let us speak to you. Do you know it’s been 3 days?”

This was news to him. He shook his head a little and slowly looked up at her, his grip on the pillow tightening.  
The doctor noticed this, and pulled her hand away, “I’m really glad to see you’re doing better,”

Alfred nodded and reached to place his hand on John’s shoulder, “You gave Tiffany quite a scare, she might not look like it but she does care about you,”

This was also news. John shifted uncomfortably, not believing that at all, but nodded and managed a small smile for them both. Having all these people touch him was making him sick, he just wanted to be left alone. But these people were his family, he couldn’t shove them away anymore.

“I… I’d like to go home, as soon as possible. Do you know when I can?” he asked, his voice cracking from not being used for so long. He flinched at the noise, it sounded… wrong. Too hoarse to be him.

Dr. Leland’s expression changed from hopeful to something darker and she paused for a while before answering, “John, we aren’t comfortable with you going home. Not in the state you’re in. I’d like to have you placed back in Arkham so we can get the… Bruce issue worked on. It’ll be easier with daily meetings than monthly,”

John stared at her and he could swear he was going to lose it, the heart monitor behind him starting to speed up as her words set in. He couldn’t stay away from Bruce, not again. Not now. Things were so broken, and even if he was still there, as minuscule of a chance as that might be, he needed to see him again to try to fix everything.

“Thanks, but no thanks, Doc. I’m fine, I was just drunk. People see things when they’re drunk, right? I’m not crazy, just… I made a bad decision,” he explained as he shifted to turn away from her, glaring out the window.

“You almost killed yourself, John, and you flat-lined while they were trying to save you. That’s not just a small bad choice that can go unchecked. It needs to be worked on, I can’t let you go back into the environment that sent you over the edge again. Maybe…

“Maybe it was a mistake letting you go when Bruce was so important to you. I’ll accept responsibility for that. You never truly got over his death, and it lead to this,” she gestured to the room they were in, but John didn’t see it, “You need help, John, and the Wayne manor is just too… linked to your pain. It was _his_ home after all, it’s a wonder you got this far along without trying anything. I’m sorry I didn’t see the whole picture until it was too late,”

John listened, his glare melting away, and he turned a bit to face her. Maybe she was right. Maybe it would help, he didn’t let it happen before when he isolated himself during his last stay. Perhaps with work, he could get over it.

“I’ll… go, but… I want to go back first. I have some things I need to do before I get locked up again. I promise I won’t do anything,” he pleaded, looking at them both.

His room became quiet once again as they left to discuss that outside. It was obvious on Leland’s face that she didn’t like the idea at all, but Alfred seemed to trust him and think it wouldn’t hurt if they stayed with him the whole time.

Relief washed over him when they both said yes, he didn’t really think they’d agree to it.

If he could get up without pain, he’d have hugged them.

\---

Dr. Leland forced him to stay in the hospital for another week before allowing him to go. She said this was for “him to heal as much as possible”, but he knew it was her way of trying to psychoanalyse him and see if he was mentally fit to go back. He hadn’t thought about that himself, he just knew he desperately had to go back and see Bruce again.

They had given him an hour and a half and a rule of no wandering off. They had decided to stay in the living area while he gathered his things and made peace with his departure, because it was the central part of the floor and all paths eventually led there. That way, he couldn’t sneak by and try anything. This seemed fair, he was a mentally deranged patient after all. He was beyond lucky they were allowing this at all. 

While he had prepared himself for the physical pain, John hadn’t expected the mental anguish he’d be forced to endure when he saw the look on Bruce’s face.

Their reunion happened in John’s room. Neither looked like they were expecting the other, their expressions frozen in shock. Bruce stood up and quickly made his way to him, wrapping his arms around him in a rushed hug.

Neither had expected to actually feel the hug either.

Bruce pulled back and his hands slid up to John’s face, holding it still as he scanned his face closely. His thumbs lightly ran under his eyes, then slid down along his cheekbones and his lips, and finally stopped at his neck. John was a bit confused on what was happening before he felt cold fingers press into his neck. Then it dawned on him; he was looking for a pulse.

John stayed silent, not sure what to say, and simply enjoyed the other’s touch. He watched as Bruce’s expression began to soften once felt his heartbeat and his shoulders loosened up, pulling him back to his chest to resume the hug. He pressed into it and closed his eyes, taking in a shaky breath, “I’m sorry, buddy,”

Bruce shook his head and pressed his lips to John’s hair, his hand resting gingerly against he back of his head, “Don’t. I don’t want to hear that yet, I’m just glad you’re okay. I was worried sick,”

John nodded a little and quieted down again, his own hand carefully lining the blood stains on Bruce’s shirt. A smile formed on his lips at the feeling. While it wasn’t the warm Bruce he remembered, a cold one was just as nice given the circumstances,

“I don’t have long,” he finally admitted, pulling away and breaking up their embrace. His eyes slid from Bruce’s to the floor, “They don’t like me being here, they think it’s making me worse. I’m going to Arkham to get my delusions sorted out, but I should be back soon! Just give me a few more weeks, things will be back to normal. Promise!”

The look on Bruce’s face wasn’t what he was hoping. Rather than being happy about being reunited, he seemed uncomfortable with it. He shifted a bit and crossed his arms over his chest, “John, listen… I’m not going to be here when you get back,” he whispered, closing his eyes to avoid seeing John’s reaction, "I wasn't even planning on being here when you came back,"

Understandably, John was at a loss for words. He stared at Bruce, his mouth open to reply, but nothing came out. He instinctively reached out to grab his hand before holding it to his cheek, “D-Don’t say that. Things are different now, see? We can actually be together now, and once I’m back things will be better,”

Bruce avoided the urge to stroke his cheek, his face turning to stone again, and pulled his arm away, “No. This, us, it’s not going to work. You were right, it’s not healthy and it never will be. I’m sorry it has to be like this, but it’s going to be better for you in the end. I-,”

John cut him off as he pulled him into a kiss, his eyebrows knitted together and his breath shaky, “Shut up,” he whispered in between kisses, his voice cracking again, “Stop trying to be the hero, you already saved me,”

Bruce didn’t return the favor. He couldn’t. He knew if he did, he’d be forced to stay. He’d already made up his mind days prior, and he intended on staying true to it. John’s mental health took a dive every time he was in the picture, the paranoid behaviors, obsessive actions, self destructive tendencies over the smallest things. All of it was because of his presence, “John, please stop,”

“I was drunk, Bruce! I probably said all kinds of things, that doesn't mean they were true!” John hissed, his fists clenching at his sides and his shoulders starting to shake. He could feel himself start to lose it again, things were _not_ supposed to be happening this way, “You can’t leave me,”

“I am. I’m putting your health before my feelings this time. Then you can focus on getting better and finding your own path out there. There’s more to life than me, you know,” Bruce said, his voice getting softer as he let his eyes flicker back to John’s. They were full of tears, but he seemed more angry than sad. He supposed this is what it felt like to break up with someone, he certainly could feel his heart breaking, “I know you love me. I love you too, but this had to happen eventually. This wasn’t going to last forever, you know that,”

John couldn’t even think of anything to say at this point. He just shook his head and wrapped his arms around Bruce again, refusing to let go. Finally, after a few minutes of silence, he whispered, “I never cared about the money, or the mansion. Or even Batman. I just wanted you, Bruce. You make me feel hopeful for the future just by being my friend. Do you think you could stay if we were just friends?”

Bruce listened closely, his hand finding its way back to John’s hair to lightly twist it around his finger. He hadn’t considered that. John had made a lot of progress before when they were limited to only visits and things were strictly platonic. When things got romantic is when they really fell apart, “I… I don’t know. I’d have to think about it,”

John’s face lit up and his usual grin returned, “Please do! Just, think that over and we’ll talk about it when I come back!”

Hesitation flickered in Bruce’s eyes before he nodded and pulled away from the hug, “Okay, sure. When you come back, we’ll see where things are,”

John did a small happy wiggle and stood on his tiptoes to brush his lips against Bruce’s cheek, “Thank you,” he whispered before turning away and grabbing random stuff to take with him. The bear was obvious, the shirt was a given, who knows when you would need makeup.

Bruce watched, letting him work. Then, once he was finished, he nodded to the door, “I have something I want to give you, it’s in my office,”

John raised an eyebrow and hoisted the bag up to his shoulder, “Uh… okay,” he said slowly, totally lost on what he could possibly have for him now after so long.

He followed close behind him, smiling and waving at Leland as he passed the main room and gave some excuse about thinking he left a makeup brush in the office. As silly as it was, she seemed okay with it. She looked relieved that he was back to his usual, upbeat self.

Once they arrived in the office, Bruce walked over to his desk and leaned against it, his hand resting over the drawings that hadn’t been touched for weeks. He watched closely as John slid open the first drawer, chuckling at the gasp that it caused.

“It’s what I was picking up the day I died, I wasn’t supposed to go get it for a few hours but they finished early. Guess fate just had it in for me that day,” he joked, his eyes following John’s hands as they lifted the gift up and slowly opened it.

Lying in John’s palm was a small, black velvet box. Inside waited a black ring encrusted with purple and green stones. He pulled it out and ran his fingers along the pieces, his eyebrows knitted together again, “You died trying to marry me?”

Bruce laughed and shook his head, “No, it wasn’t that kind of ring. Just… I guess, maybe promise ring instead? I’m not a jewelry person so this kind of thing goes over my head. I wanted something to make you more than just the guy I donate too much money to an asylum for,”

John slid it onto his finger, and laughed when he saw that it fit, “You’re one odd guy, Bruce, really. You’re making it _very_ hard for me to just be your friend. But thank you, I love it,”

What happened next was inevitable, any promises of a goodbye melting away. John moved back to him and leaned in, kissing his lips softly, and pulled away to wait to be reprimanded again, but to his surprise, he instead got his first real kiss from Bruce. It wasn’t gentle like Bruce usually treated him, it was fast and feverish. Desperate. A small moan escaped his lips as he wrapped his arms around the other’s neck, relishing in the feeling of the hands that slid up his sides. Whatever pain he was in before melted away, replaced by the intoxicating sensation that Bruce’s fingers left. Unfortunately for him, it ended far before he wanted it too.

Bruce smiled at the pout on John’s lips and slipped away from him, “Sorry, still getting used to the friends thing too,” he said with another chuckle, “You should probably go, they’re waiting on you,”

“Yeah, they’re probably worried. I’ll see you later, buddy,” John said with a grin, and headed out the door, glancing over his shoulder every once and awhile to see if Bruce was following. After it started to bother Leland, he forced himself to stop peeking. Bruce wouldn’t lie to him, he would stay and wait, just like he said.

He couldn’t help but look back one more time as they were heading out the door. To his surprise, Bruce was there. John, of course, couldn’t vocally respond since Leland was right in front of him, but he snuck in a smile and a little wave when she was looking ahead at the car.

Bruce returned the smile slightly, his own wave barely leaving his side. The smile fell slightly after, his face falling. He had always hated lying to John, manipulating him, but he was never going to let him leave any other way. This had to be done if either was going to be truly free of the other. He just hoped John would understand.

Then, once John was jogging to catch up with the doctor, Bruce took the last few steps out the door and faded away.


	7. Chapter 7

The mansion was a lot quieter without John, and since Alfred left before nightfall, Tiffany might as well have owned the place. Despite this, they had gotten close since she moved in. Al appreciated having someone mentally grounded to speak with, and Tiffany almost viewed him as a surrogate father to her, especially since he and her real father were close. It felt good to have a piece of Lucius with her.

Tonight, however, wasn’t a typical day, and they were still together past their usual parting time. They had just gotten back from another group therapy session at Arkham. Things weren’t tense, but there were things left unsaid as saying them in front of John was frowned upon. Tiffany was practically itching to say them, but she had things to do.

She sat on the edge of the counter, sketching away at some boring corporate designs that her supervisor demanded be finished by the next day. She couldn’t think of a single thing more boring than this, Bruce had always let her pursue more interesting things than small busy work projects, “Ugh, this is so stupid,”

Alfred chuckled to himself and glanced at her as he pulled out the ingredients he had prepared for their dinner, “Something on your mind?” he asked, watching as the sketchbook was placed down and the pencil dropped on top of it.

“He’s lying, I can feel it,” Tiffany blurted out, her eyebrows knitted together as she watched the pencil roll back and forth in its spot, “He’s always so much better there, but then he comes back and he’s a mess. I don’t know how you can possibly approve of him coming back,”

Alfred sighed and set down the bowl in his hands to turn to her, pushing his glasses up a bit, “I know you’re apprehensive about it, but it’s not like he’s a threat to either of us. He barely went near you, he won’t do you any harm,”

“He’s a threat to _himself _, Al,” She pressed, her arms crossing over her chest, “You haven’t seen him the way I have, and you didn’t see what he did. He talks to himself. He never let me see it but I’m not deaf. And it was always to Bruce. He doesn’t mention that to Leland, of course. Whatever it takes to get back to his ‘best friend’,__

__“Look… I know you want to help him, but I think it’s best he stays where he is. You can’t watch over him 24/7, he’ll be safe there,”_ _

__Alfred only nodded and resumed cooking, his face showing that he was lost in thought. He knew that Tiffany was correct, but knowing what Bruce would have wanted, he couldn’t bear the thought of just leaving him in Arkham._ _

__Tiffany stayed to watch for a bit longer before hopping off the counter and rolling her sleeves up to help. There wasn’t much conversation, a lot of things didn’t need to be said as they were already agreed upon, but it was obvious the question of John’s final home wasn’t going to be settled tonight._ _

__\---_ _

__John’s stay had been shorter than initially anticipated. He was overly compliant, helpful, passed all the tests and interviews with flying colors, much to Tiffany’s dismay. She absolutely hated how he had Leland wrapped around his finger. He could probably stab the woman and she’d dismiss it as some kind of coping mechanism. And now he felt even more… unsettling. Something in him had changed since he was at the mansion. She just couldn’t prove it._ _

__Tiffany followed close behind as he entered the doors again, a smile on his lips. He seemed hopeful, and she had serious doubts that it was over his “bright future”, as Leland had worded it. They continued down the part of the manor that she had avoided for so long that she barely knew where anything was, but which room was his was obvious. She never understood his thing with purple and green, they were tacky. Still, this was all nitpicking, nothing worrying._ _

__She leaned against the doorframe as she watched him start to unpack his belongings, her arms across her chest again. He was so good at avoiding her that he didn’t even bother to look at her, which bothered her more than if he were talking to her, “Doe,”_ _

__John paused as he went to set the framed picture of Bruce and he down and instead turned to look at Tiffany, an eyebrow raised, “Are we on a… well, a name basis now? No more scheduling bathroom breaks around each other?”_ _

__Tiffany rolled her eyes and averted her eyes out to the hallway in front of her, “No and I don’t ever want us to be closer than we are right now. I just want you to know that I’m watching you. And for real this time; I’m going to find out what you’re hiding,”_ _

__John blinked, quite frankly taken aback by all that, but only laughed and shrugged, turning back to finally set the picture down, “Hey, that’s fine by me! Find out whatever you want. I’ll be sure to give you a warning before I set the mansion on fire,” The last bit was followed by a grin and a laugh that only slightly hinted that he was kidding, “I’ll try to keep it on _my_ side of the place,”_ _

__“God! You’re insufferable! I don’t know what Bruce saw in you,” she said with a shudder before pushing herself off of the doorframe and quickly walking off. Even being that close to him for a few minutes was enough to make her want to move out._ _

__The only reply she got was another laugh, but this one was even worse than before. It was almost identical to the one from the night he showed his true colors._ _

___What a fucking monster._ _ _

__\---_ _

__After that day, there were barely any noteworthy things to mention._ _

__Eventually, after a few months, she completely gave up her mission on ending whatever plan Doe had. There was nothing there, he was so… quiet. Unnervingly so, but he wasn’t a threat anymore. He’d turned into the person that Leland described in her reports._ _

__The silence had progressively gotten worse, his demeanor changing from the excited grinning weirdo to a sullen, husk of himself._ _

__He barely left his room aside from when he was forced out for therapy or meals. His frequent roaming the halls, inspecting every room, had ceased._ _

__Alfred had tried his best to fix whatever he was going through with outings and his favorite meals, and Leland too, but if he couldn’t even express what he was going through, there wasn’t anything anyone could do. Even Tiffany slowly began to warm up to him despite all of this, and their relationship turned into a slight friendship the more they found themselves together in a non-forced setting more often._ _

__Their little family had adopted a cat in hopes that the creature would lift his spirits, but aside from spending the night in his room and being somebody to stare out the window with, the animal didn’t help a lot either._ _

__It was like the guy was finally properly mourning._ _

__For a little while._ _

__John’s coping methods weren’t healthy. Granted, he wasn’t healthy before, but things had gotten worse with time. The more Tiffany spent time with him, the more she realized he was rarely ever sober. There was always a bottle in his hand, another handful of pills to down. She was now putting together just how much Bruce meant to him, and he had just been shoving it down. Now that the feelings were being acknowledged full force, he had no idea how to handle it all._ _

__Any attempts she made to help were just pushed away, she just “didn’t understand how he felt”, and maybe she didn’t, but she did lose someone close to her too._ _

__John just wasn’t having it._ _

__He made his way into the kitchen, having just woken up from another nap, and frowned at the sight of Tiff and Al cooking. What time was it? He felt around for his phone to check, but of course, it wasn’t there. He had no idea where he’d had it last._ _

__Alfred glanced over at him and smiled, “Good evening, John. Glad to see you’re joining us for dinner,”_ _

__John shook his head and walked over to the fridge, opening it and bending down to see if they had any liquor left, “I’m not hungry. Where’s the uh…” his voice faded off as another headache came on. When even was the last time he drank?_ _

__Alfred sighed and shook his head, stepping around Tiffany to grab one of the pans above her, “I’m not buying you more, not when you act the way you do. You’ll have to simply be sober for dinner,”_ _

__“Yep, sorry, Doe,” Tiffany chimed in, “Unlike you, we’ve actually been putting effort into things, like this. So you better suck it up and stick around to eat it or I’m gonna beat you,”_ _

__John rolled his eyes and stood up, maybe a bit too quick as he had to grab onto the fridge for support. God his head felt horrible, “Sorry, but I’m going out,” he replied as he started to leave, “Don’t wait up for me,”_ _

__Alfred’s eyes widened and he grabbed John’s wrist, his expression turning into that slightly scary one that Bruce had mentioned seeing a lot as a kid, “John, you are in no condition to drive. Just stay home, please,”_ _

__John laughed and pulled his arm away, rubbing the spot that had been grabbed, “The car drives itself. I’m safer in it than if you were driving, old man. And it’s _Joker_ now, get it through your head,”_ _

__Alfred’s expression stayed the same. This kind of treatment was typical when he got like this. Without another word, he turned and went back to work, leaving the decision up to him._ _

__As they both could guess, John only stuck around for a shower and to change before going. They hadn’t made enough for three anyway._ _

__\---_ _

__The club wasn’t as loud as it usually was, there were fewer people there than normal. It was most likely because of a holiday, but keeping track of time wasn't John's strong suit._ _

__He found his way to his usual spot at the bar and ordered “whatever, just knock me out”. The bartender barely gave him a glance before fixing up whatever they were almost out of. He’d quickly learned that John really didn’t give a shit as long as it worked so he was easy to work with._ _

__John flashed him a smile as he picked up the glass, taking a sip as he turned around to scan his eyes over the few that were there.There were some that he recognized; a few rejects from the Pact, some middle tier criminals who saw themselves as the best. The rest were just workers or random citizens who were there for the same reason he was._ _

__His eyes stopped when he saw something that nearly made him do a double take, which would have been really funny if he were ever in the mood for joking around anymore._ _

__He slid from the seat and dusted himself off a bit with his freehand, still nursing the drink with the other, and headed over to it._ _

__The object of his attention was someone he hadn’t seen before. The person was in their early twenties, fairly tall, built well. His clothes helped accentuate his body well. It was the usual sex worker deal, but that didn’t matter to John. What did attract him to the guy was his face. Jet black hair, his cheekbones, and those eyes…_ _

__If he weren’t half sober, he would have normally just assumed he was totally out of it and his brain was compensating by making him see an angel. _His_ angel. _ _

__When the young man caught John’s eyes and flashed him a smile, he could have sworn his heart would burst out of his chest._ _

__John didn’t have to finish his pursuit, the man excused himself from the woman he was with and joined him. Now that he was closer, the resemblance between him and Bruce were less obvious, they didn’t have the same lips or nose, but it was all just enough to capture his attention completely._ _

__“I haven’t seen you here before, stranger,” the dark haired man commented as he ran his finger along the edge of John’s glass, “I’m Robin,”_ _

__“Joker,” John replied with a smile, bringing the drink to his lips and brushing his tongue against the part that had been touched. He hadn’t felt this alive in.... well, months. His eyes stayed on Robin’s. He didn’t dare look away, it almost felt like he did he’d realize this was all a dream and he’d vanish._ _

__Robin nodded, taking that in, and leaned against the bar a bit, studying the person in front of him. He certainly had… eccentric taste. He almost looked like he was crazy with the odd colors and day old makeup, but he decided to just chalk it up to this being Gotham afterall. Being totally sane was rare here, “It’s good to meet you, Mister J,”_ _

__John chuckled at that, only looking away for a refill on whatever was in his glass. This Robin seemed too well spoken to be here, too kind. A place like this would eat him alive. After a moment of silence, he finally spoke up, “What’s your real name, kid? And what’s your story? How’d you end up here?”_ _

__Dick blinked. He obviously hadn’t been expecting anything like that; this completely caught him off guard. He’d only been hoping to rope in another person for his very slim clientele list. He was quiet, trying to figure out if that was even okay to do, before shaking the thought away, “My names uh… Dick. Dick Grayson. And I kind of have student loans to pay. Not a lot around here that pays well enough to get you through school unless you take to crime. I don’t want to go down that path, so here we are,”_ _

__John listened, nodding here and there, then turned to him and smiled, “You’re a good kid. You don’t deserve to be in a place like this. Too pretty to be throwing away your youth with this sort of job,”_ _

__Dick laughed and ran his fingers through his hair, pushing it out of his face a bit, “Yeah it’d be nice to leave, but the money’s good. Isn’t that how a lot of people get trapped?”_ _

__John nodded again, going quiet as he thought, before turning away from the bar and facing Robin completely, “Come home with me tonight,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. He was almost scared to ask; anyone with half a brain would be skeptical and say no, but he had to try. He’d give anything for someone like the angel in front of him, “One night with me and you’ll be set for life. That’s all I ask,”_ _

__Robin watched him closely, searching his eyes for any hint of deception or dishonesty, then nodded a little, “I’m off the clock anyway, and I don’t have anything planned tonight, so sure, I’ll play your game. I’m not cheap though,”_ _

__“Oh, don’t worry, I’m not a light spender,” John replied with a smirk. This felt crazy, but crazy was normal to him at this point._ _

__\---_ _

__The night didn’t turn out as Robin had thought it would._ _

__First, they hadn’t done anything sexual and instead stuck with talking and simply enjoying each other’s company. He’d tried to initiate other things, but Joker had assured him that he had the highest of respect for him and that he didn’t have to do anything he didn’t want to. He’d felt almost relieved at this, but he was confused over what kind of arrangement the guy wanted if not a physical kind. The more Joker opened up to him, the faster he felt at ease with him._ _

__Second, he hadn’t expected wake up the next morning to find fifty grand in his bag. He almost hadn’t taken the money, but Joker had insisted that there would be more anyways and it was only the starting point._ _

__Third, he felt oddly safe with the man. He could tell he had his demons and there were deeper issues lying beneath the mask he was putting on, but he could also see that he wasn’t someone to just throw others away without reason. It made him feel comfortable with the idea of an arrangement with him._ _

__Robin slid out of bed and started to get dressed again. He glanced at the half asleep man beside him, giving him a smile, and collected his bag, “Good morning, Mister J,” he said with a softer voice than the one he used at work. This made Joker smile and open his eyes to look at him._ _

__“You’re beautiful,” was his only response, once again catching him off guard._ _

__The younger man laughed and slid the bag to his shoulder, heading to the door, “Uh huh, I’ll call you, okay? Hope your day goes well,” He could tell this made him happy, a small purr escaping his lips. Joker seemed to glow in his presence, a night and day difference from the sad guy he’d spotted the night before. He appeared more… hopeful._ _

__Before he could leave, Joker called out his name; his real name, and gave him a genuine smile, “I like the Mister J thing but… call me John, please. John Doe,”_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end, maybe. I wanted John to have a somewhat hopeful future but I also didn't wanna backpedal on Bruce leaving. Maybe I’ll continue it with the two of them eventually if anyone wants? Idk


	8. Chapter 8

It had been a few weeks since the arrangement began. Robin came every few days, spent the night, and left with more money. John knew that it was all superficial, the guy would pretend to be anything at all if it meant he’d get the amount he was offering, but he felt close to him anyway. Perhaps that was the loneliness talking.

It was another one of those nights. One they’d spent drinking, doing whatever drugs John had gotten his hands on this week, then fell asleep together. They’d usually just spend whatever time in between with John rambling about nothing; his loneliness shined the most then.

The time they spent talking was almost a distraction to avoid other things. They had only gotten remotely sexual once, and the older man hadn’t found it in him to continue. It just didn’t feel right with anyone other than his Brucie.

John could tell Robin preferred it that way, it would have stung a bit knowing if this had been going on before everything fell apart, but at this point he barely cared. The guy looked and felt like Bruce, and that’s all he needed out of him. It was a win-win situation for both, on the surface at least.

It was early, not early enough for Robin to leave, but it was getting close. John yawned a bit and sat up, stretching, and glanced down at the kid. He had rolled away from him, maybe subconsciously trying to distance himself from everything. The last few days had been rough on their relationship, in his eyes John was getting almost too attached and leaving was becoming an issue.

That’s why he took to disappearing before John woke up to stop him. As much as he wanted the guy to be happy, he couldn’t handle _that_ level of attachment. Especially for their kind of deal. It was making him uncomfortable, but for the money he was getting, he figured that would be worth putting up with.

John turned and slid out of bed, standing and reaching to rub his head a bit, then headed for the open door and stepped out as quietly as he could. The cat, Batsy, slept just outside of the room. He smiled and knelt down to run his hand along the little one’s back. He purred and arched it in pleasure, looking up at the guy and mewing before snuggling back into his paws to go back to sleep.

That was the one thing in his life that felt pure anymore.

Of course, John was heading to the kitchen. He’d gotten used to stocking up on his own since Alfred had really put his foot down. They barely spoke anymore aside from in passing or the butler’s automatic meal updates. He still hadn’t taken him up on any of the meals.

Whatever John was expecting to find in the kitchen at 3am, it wasn’t Bruce.

But there he was.

This was the third time they’d found each other this way, it never seemed to get any easier. But this time it wasn’t exactly the same. John was stunned, Bruce’s face was more… sullen. Cautious and hesitant, like he wasn’t sure what to do.

After a moment, John finally found his voice, and his choice of words were expected.

“You son of a bitch!”

Bruce had been anticipating that. He nodded in agreement, sitting down against the counter, and kept his eyes on John’s, watching as his expressions went from shock to confusion to anger.

“You think you can just walk in and out of my life like it’s _nothing_? Honestly, Bruce, what the hell? How many times are you just going to get close to me, make me love you, then just leave or throw me away? And why are you back now? I’m way better than I was a month ago, I could barely walk! Is it because I’m with someone now? Jealousy? That’s low, even for you! Just get the hell ou--”

He didn’t get a chance to finish that. He was silenced by Bruce leaning in and pressing his lips to his, much like their last actual kiss on the day they’d parted. Bruce’s hands slid up to his face, holding it in place as he whispered for the other man to shut up for a second.

John, stunned, complied for a moment, before shaking his head and shoving Bruce away, anger returning to his face, “ _No_ , you do not get to just walk in and kiss me like nothing happened. You abandoned me, Bruce! Do you have any idea how much that hurt me? You broke me! Again… ”

Bruce was quiet, taking a step back and respecting the newly established boundary, “I know; I’m sorry. But it’s not what you think. It didn’t happen like that,”

John stared at him, his eyebrows furrowed. He didn’t respond, giving him a chance to explain. He didn’t let him come any closer, however, and slid back when Bruce tried to approach again.

The other man sighed and let his eyes slide to the floor, his arms crossing over his chest, “You’re not entirely wrong, I did try to leave. I really thought you’d be okay, you were doing so well…” his voice trailed off and he shifted his weight, obviously uncomfortable talking about his actions, “I was wrong. About the afterlife thing, going outside didn’t do that. It just… It changed things. I could barely see myself anymore. I was… practically invisible. The worst part wasn't obvious until you came home, you walked right through my hug. You couldn’t see me either,”

Bruce looked up to study John’s expression, which had began to soften as the anger faded, “I was always with you. You just didn’t see me anymore. I tried, so hard, to make you see me, or hear me, or even feel me. Anything. It was a horrible decision on my part, but I did not leave you. Not intentionally,”

John was quiet for a moment longer before closing the distance between them and burying his way into Bruce’s arms. He wanted so badly to be upset, to take all of the anger and pain he’d felt out on him, but it just dissolved the second they touched. Bruce was too… good, too kind to be mad at. He half-heartedly beat a fist into Bruce’s chest, but the anger behind it had faded before it even touched him, “You’d used me so much before, with the Pact and stealing and stuff, that I thought maybe… you didn’t have a use for me now that we weren’t going to be together anymore. What good would I be if I couldn’t please you anymore?”

John’s voice was barely above a whisper, but each word cut into Bruce as deep as if he were yelling them. He swallowed and slid his arms around him, holding him to his chest and resting his chin on his hair. He could feel the slight wetness of tears as they dripped onto his shirt, “I’m so sorry I put you through that. It really wasn’t what I intended. I only wanted you to find an identity outside of me. I didn’t think you’d… turn out the way you did. I put too much faith in your stability,”

“Yeah, I turn into a mess when I don’t have my best friend,” John said as he laughed a little and nodded, his hands pressing into Bruce’s back and slightly digging into his shirt. It felt so… soft. Exactly how it looked, how he’d imagined it. It was different this time, it was warm under his touch instead of the cold he had burned into his memory, “I think that hurt the most, you know? I spent so long with people who were forced to be around me. Leland, the other patients, Harley, even Robin. I'm not stupid, he doesn’t actually care. They all had to deal with me, and the second they could drop me, they were happy to. But you… you _chose_ me, Bruce. You looked at me and accepted it. That’s what made me love you, knowing you wanted me to be your friend,”

Bruce smiled and let him talk, simply enjoying the feeling of the other man in his arms again finally. It was a welcome change compared to the infinite nights he spent trying to hold John as he slept only to see no reaction out of him, “Of course I chose you. Two threads, right?”

John’s eyes lit up at the reference and grinned, “Same stitch,” he agreed, standing on his toes to kiss Bruce again. This only lasted a moment before he pulled away with a frown, “Wait, why can I see you now if you've always been here?”

The look on Bruce’s face made his stomach tighten; he’d been waiting for that. He could feel the arms around him constrict, as if instinctively trying to keep their happy moment going rather than face the subject of what was happening.

“John… just stay with me, alright? Don’t worry about that, not yet,” was his response, his lips finding their way to the other man’s forehead. One hand slid to John’s hand and a thumb ran over the purple and green ring on his finger, “You kept it the whole time, it made me really happy to see. Especially when you started bringing Robin home. I was worried you-,”

John, of course, quickly put everything together and he pushed himself away from Bruce again, not accepting the change of topic, “You didn’t check my pulse this time…” he whispered, his eyebrows knitted together again, “You… didn’t need to,”

Bruce couldn’t grab his wrist fast enough; John was already rushing out of the kitchen by the time he tried.

He had caught up to him just outside of his bedroom, his arms wrapping around his waist and spinning him so that his back was to the doorway, “I don’t want you to see that, John. Trust me,” Bruce pleaded, his eyes locked on John’s as he tried to make the seriousness of the situation known, “Please, let’s go back,”

John almost agreed, those gorgeous blue eyes matched with the stern yet concerned expression making his knees weak, but only shook his head as he tore away from them, “No. I want to see,”

And he did. Bruce didn’t stop him this time.

As he walked back to the room, he was met with a few unexpected things. The first and biggest being the desperation in Robin’s voice as he tried to save him. It was almost pitiful, seeing how hard the kid was working on CPR and listening for a heartbeat versus how… gone John looked.

He was still wearing the street clothes he'd came home in after their "date". The shirt was unbuttoned for CPR, though, and that just made him look worse. His body had taken a pretty tough beating lately with how hard he was crashing and his usually pale skin was a weird shade of blue. If not for the makeup, he was sure his face would look significantly worse.

It was obviously an overdose, and the evidence was everywhere. His room had always been messy, but tonight was worse. He barely remembered what had even happened before they'd gotten into bed, but the amount of bottles and the smell signified it wasn't a small deal. 

As John started to back up, he almost jumped out of his skin at the sight of Tiffany _going through _him to kneel beside the body and take over as Robin pulled out his phone to call for an ambulance. She’d never been the kind to help him, especially after what happened in the cave, but this… made him wish he’d been nicer to her. He had only been mirroring her actions at first, but lately she at least tried to be kind. He just hadn’t been sober enough to acknowledge it.__

__Stone faced, John finally left the scene and returned to Bruce. Surprising them both, he started to laugh. A small chuckle at first that led into the kind that made Bruce’s skin crawl. He grinned after and put his hands on Bruce’s shoulders, “Ironic, huh? I wasn’t even trying!”_ _

__Bruce didn’t seem to find the humor in the situation, and instead pulled John away to back to the kitchen where they couldn’t hear the commotion. He looked at him closely, trying to judge how well he was taking it, but he was just too giggly to get a fair reading._ _

__John tilted his head a little and reached to touch Bruce’s cheek, smiling as the touch was met by a slight tilt of his head, “I missed you, Bruce,” he whispered finally, his expression changing to one that was almost sad, “Everything was so dark without you. You’re the only light I’ve ever known. I would’ve married you, if you’d asked,” this statement was followed by him flashing the ring. It was on his left ring finger, “I know that wasn’t your intention, but still. I loved you that much. I still do,”_ _

__Bruce smiled again and pressed his forehead to his, holding him in place so he couldn’t see as paramedics rushed passed by just a few feet away from them, “I should’ve thought to ask sooner, maybe things could have gone differently.”_ _

__John’s smile grew to a grin as he nodded, his arms wrapping around Bruce’s neck to pull him closer, “Actually, I’m okay with how things are now,” he whispered, “After everything we’ve been through, I’d say this is fine by me. _Soul_ mates always end up together,” _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I lied, this is the actual real ending, and it's totally not an excuse for the horrid pun at the end I swear.


End file.
